


3A

by IzumiP



Category: Ensemble Stars
Genre: Abandonment, Gen, Looks bad Todd, Mental Illness, abuse implications, discussion of EDs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzumiP/pseuds/IzumiP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 3 A's Izumi has come to know very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1A - Abandonment

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Going further and building on a character analysis of Izumi I wrote a while ago. Sorry if its not what you Want or Expect. 
> 
> This will be in three parts.
> 
> (As always, the disclaimer: All sensitive subjects I do have experience with and aren't being used for edgy shock value or as a tool to make things :(Tragic and Sad:( )

It was always looming over him, swaying on a thin rope that was already fraying. It was dark, heavy and no matter where he went it was still above him. He couldn't escape. That crushing fear, the paranoia. The terror of being alone and left behind. It was more than he could bear.

Izumi knew there were those who were always around him, his unit, his classmates. He wasn't truly alone, they were there around him. But still, his stomach twisted as he always heard that little voice whisper into his ear: its an obligation, they don't want to be near you. Nobody can stand you.

He desperately wanted to believe it was irrational, it was just a lie. Something his mind wanted to trick him into thinking, but the more he reflected on the words, the more he realized it was true.

Izumi thought about Makoto. Makoto, who he was so desperate to be an older brother to. Makoto, one of the only people who could understand, who could know what he went through. Makoto, the one who was already just beyond his reach.

He could only see his back as he walked away.

Sitting in a classroom, full of people he should have considered friends. He couldn't think of them as anything more than acquaintances, if that. He went with them sometimes, he put on a smile and played up the part they expected him to fulfill. But there was never truly any point to it.

No matter how hard he tried, everyone would leave in the end. He pushed and pushed, he managed to say worse things than he ever wanted to hear leaving his mouth. He felt a sharp pain every time he did this. But he had to, didn't he?

Makoto was gone. Arashi would leave too. The only ones who ever could even begin to understand the burden he carried in his heart. The rest of Knights. His classmates. Everyone would leave.

So he burned every bridge before he could find himself burning instead.


	2. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for abuse implications. 
> 
> As always, based on my personal interpretations/analysis of Izumi as a character. All heavy subjects are being used delicately and not just for Plot and Sadness.

It was something Izumi had grown to see as a companion. Something that never really left him. It was unlike the burdens he carried, and was simply a part of him that burned white hot. It was impossible to touch without being hurt, so he simply let it sit in his chest, searing him from the inside out.

It had been put in there long ago soon after he found out the world was worse than he had ever thought it had been. Izumi had been young, doing as he was told and growing up to be the perfect model. But it was never enough, he had to be better. He had to be perfect. And until he reached that ideal image, he felt the pressure.  
And eventually, he knew fear. He had been broken, and he knew, after what happened then, he would never be able to be put back together.

But still he continued on, as he had to. Izumi felt that fear he had never known before, that sat in his stomach and squirmed, and made him jolt every time he had time alone with his thoughts. He felt the terror when hands reached for him and soon he found himself recoiling away, making excuses as quickly as he could to appease those disappointed and frustrated looks. He was going to do his best.

As Izumi continued forward, the fear began to fade. It never really went away, it just turned into a dull throb, something easily ignored. And soon it was replaced by the only thing he ever needed to live by: Bitterness and anger.

He hated it. He hated them. He pushed the others away, he grew bad tempered and it hurt others. But he was hurting more. And maybe if he hurt them enough, they would run, and be safe. Away from this life, away from the fear and pressure and pain.  
It was always easiest to make someone leave first.

And the anger never left him, even as he grew older. Izumi carried it with him and it became bigger and brighter. That anger that he had never been a child. He had been a dancer, a model, and someone to make others proud. He had that perfect body, that face. And he knew he was good at what he did, he truly did. He still hung on to the job, only moving away for the idol course. He still fussed over his weight just like before, flaunted his image, took pride in it and his skills.

But that never dulled the anger, hiding behind that arrogant smile. Nothing could anymore. And it showed, to all those around Izumi. It spilled out, just like it had before. He felt anger when others tried to touch him, he felt anger when they tried to draw near. He felt anger simply having others trying to get close to him. 

Knowing there was nothing to these people and meeting them was painful and only hurt him more. They would come and go and he would have nothing in the end, and he knew this to be true as the days went by. They could never fix this. How could they? That voice that he came to knew so well, it always whispered to him. He felt fear again, cold and writhing in him.

And along with the fear, he felt that anger growing, a roaring fire now, burning a hole straight through him until nothing was left. No one could do anything for him anymore.

All he felt was anger.


	3. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. I don't think I really need to say anything.

Izumi sat in the classroom, long since empty, classes all over. He had some time to himself in for what seemed like forever, and it felt good. He glanced out at the window, noting the reddening sky. He'd have to leave soon, but he wanted to stay for just a bit longer.

The silence was refreshing, like cool water being poured on a hot iron. The steam rising up to clear his thoughts, a blank slate. He was completely alone, just as he wanted to be.

Around the others, he felt himself wound tight, coiled like a spring ready to be let go. The fear and anger that bubbled up, only making everything more tense. It was a self-induced sabotage, distress he brought on himself. But it was what he always needed to do, to find this solace he was appreciating now. When they walked away, unable to deal with him, he could find the time to be alone.

When he was alone, he had time to reflect in on himself, calmly. He thought about how broken he was, and how he would never be fixed; there were too many pieces and he was sure some had been lost by now. How the ones who Izumi could have turned to about it all were moving away, and it was all his fault. How disgusted he was with himself, his body, every part of him. How cold and dark his heart had become.  
But even thinking about this, Izumi couldn't feel anything anymore. He was broken, and now all he could do was break everything else. Nothing stayed perfect forever, and he always found himself with the remains of what could have been something nice. He always ruined everything.  
But that was just how things were.  
Izumi had no one. Surrounded by people, but completely alone. He had absolutely no one, and he knew it. No matter how he denied it, clinging to Makoto and his hopes to be close again. The hollow bonding with his unit, with Arashi. Taking part in activities, trying his hardest.

It always felt empty. He felt like a machine, simply going through the motions he was programmed to do. Nothing he wanted to do, but what he had to do. He was hollow.

No matter how much he wanted this to hurt, he couldn't feel it now. He rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped on his desk and still looking out the window. He knew the next day the pain would come back, the anger would be kindled again and he would fall back into the rhythm he had grown used to. But for now, he was cold and untouched by any feeling at all.

There really was nothing here for him. There was no one truly here for him. It almost felt like a weight had been taken off him every time he mulled over that fact. There was nobody. And there was nobody to leave him, to hurt him ever again. As much as he pined for others, he knew this was for the best. He was strong without anyone at all.

He was, and felt like he always would be, alone. And sitting here in the empty classroom, reflecting on himself, he was sure that was what he deserved.


End file.
